


Stubborn Git

by viciousracket



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hospitals, Hurt Draco Malfoy, M/M, Panic, Post-War, Protective Harry Potter, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciousracket/pseuds/viciousracket
Summary: Harry frantically looked around, head spinning as his heart stretched tighter and tighter the longer he went without the reassurance that he would be okay. He’ll be okay, they had said on the phone, just a few scratches, and a broken wrist.He’d be okay, Harry tried to tell his beating heart. He’ll be fine, He told his pounding head. He’s going to be-OR Draco finds himself inside muggle hospitals much more often than Harry is happy aboutIt’s been five years since the Final Battle, for Merlin’s sake! It’s not up to you to be the punching bag of those who lost people.OR Draco keeps getting beaten up and Harry is a tad protective.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 377





	Stubborn Git

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought I'd say that though the summary seems like Draco is seriously hurt, I don't think I could ever bring myself to write him being more damaged than he already is :( he's totally fine in this!! and just as much a stubborn git as ever. 
> 
> Kudos are appreciated if u want :,))
> 
> im on tumblr!! angelsiceberg
> 
> p.s. im not sure why the italics i put in aren't visible on ao3, can anyone help me figure that problem out?

As he stumbled through the blindingly white corridors, struggling to keep up with the speed of his own feet, Harry was acutely aware of the fact he felt numb. So startlingly numb, that at one point he stopped, only for half a second, to take a deep breath and make sure he still could- that at some point he hadn’t died and ascended to wherever it was you ascend to next. 

From the moment Harry had got the call, from the moment he’d felt his heart drop like a lead ball in his chest, he’d felt numb. There weren’t hundreds of thoughts, all trying to push their way to the front of his mind, as was usual for Harry in a crisis. There was no panic, no deafening screams that only Harry could hear, telling him to hurry up and prepare for the worst, oh god oh god he might be dead. There was only the pounding of Harry’s worn out trainers on the gleaming hospital floors, squeaking when he made sharp turns. All Harry could focus on was what was ahead of him, was following the unclear signs that pointed him in the right direction. 

Harry didn’t stop when he sprinted through the hospital cafe, didn’t stop at the sounds of babies laughing, people crying, quiet chatter. Harry didn’t stop when he almost ran into a group of nurses clad in blue talking to the patient they were wheeling in the opposite direction to the way Harry was headed. He didn't let the panic set in when it seemed he had got lost, only glanced at the closest sign and turned back around, righting his direction. 

He stopped only when he came to the doors of what he was sure was the right ward, bent down to wash his hands in the small basin with too-hot water, and it was only then that everything set in. 

Suddenly, the stark lights on the ceiling above him were too bright. The rush of his blood pumped in his ears so loudly that it drowned out the silence of the empty corridor he’d just run down. As if he’d been in a trance before, Harry was now alert, and that was when the panic pushed forward. He shook the droplets that the paper towel hadn’t caught off of his hands, and turned towards the swing-doors that led into the ward the nice woman at the front desk had directed him to. 

Muggle hospitals were horrid. St Mungo’s was filled with the smell of dittany and surrounded you with the strength of healing magic. They were filled with promise and hope and the prospect of better times. Muggle hospitals were filled with crying babies and mourning and loss and no way to save the loved ones that lay in the bleach white sheets. 

But the ambulance had reached him before Harry had, as always, so the muggle hospital would once again have to do.

Harry frantically looked around, head spinning as his heart stretched tighter and tighter the longer he went without the reassurance that he would be okay. He’ll be okay, they had said on the phone, just a few scratches, and a broken wrist. 

He’d be okay, Harry tried to tell his beating heart. He’ll be fine, He told his pounding head. He’s going to be-

Relief flooded through Harry like a heating spell. He broke into a wide, open-mouthed smile when he spotted a tuft of unkempt white hair over the shoulder of a nurse who was holding a clipboard a few beds down. His smile kept as he jogged the few meters over, not leaving even when he saw the black eye that looked like spilt ink on white parchment. 

“Draco.” He sighed, before he’d been spotted.

Draco looked up in surprise, and the stern face of concentration he’d had as he listened carefully to the nurse was washed away by a small smile. The nurse looked up too, and on seeing Harry, murmured something about improvements before wandering away to the next patient.

Harry lent down and kissed Draco delicately on the cheek, avoiding a small scratch that had obviously been an open and bleeding one not long before. 

“You’re okay.” He said, sighing again, and leaning back to look into the bright grey eyes that were staring back at him. 

“Of course I’m okay you dolt. I’m always okay.” Draco replied with a snort, but he didn’t lose his fond smile as Harry sat down onto the chair beside the hospital bed where Draco lay. 

“I was so worried, Draco.” Harry said, his wide grin finally wavering as he remembers the panic he felt only minutes ago.

“You always are.” Draco said calmly, glancing over at Harry with the expression of adoration he reserved only for him. 

“Well if you’d stop getting yourself beaten to a pulp every two months, maybe I wouldn’t be close to having a heart attack everytime the phone rings.” Harry said, feigning annoyance, when in reality he knew none of this was Draco’s fault.

“Hm, it is about time I see you lying in these scratchy hospital sheets rather than me.” Draco laughed. Harry loved the sight of Draco laughing, possibly more than anything else. It had taken so long to see it. Taken so long to coax so much as a smile out of the frail, damaged boy he’d met at the doors of Hogwarts their first day of eighth year. 

For most of the first term, no one heard so much as a word out of Draco. Everyone knew his father was on house arrest, but had gotten off easy because of his last-minute alliance switch, and that his mother sent owls to Draco twice a day. Nearly everyone who had been directly involved in the Final Battle, certainly all of those that had been labelled as War Heros, had received long apology letters from Draco, all handwritten and personal. It seemed that, for a long time, Draco would never forgive himself, even after everyone he’d tormented, everyone he’d bullied, and everyone who could see how much pain he was in, had.

Harry reached across to clasp Draco’s hand in his own, remembering with a frown just how sorry Draco had been for everything, how apologetic, how remorseful, and wondered how four years on, people were still intent on punishing him for the actions he’d made as a scared sixteen year old boy.

Harry tried to pull Draco’s hand up to kiss, but the blonde winced, and Harry gently lowered it. 

“Hurts?” Harry asked stupidly, worried green eyes boring into amused grey ones.

“A little, but that’s to be expected isn’t it?” Draco chuckled, and once again Harry was in awe at how strong the twenty-two year laying in front of him was. “While I’ll forever be impressed with how far muggles have developed without wands to help them, there is still only so much they can do without magic.”

“Yes, well, I’ll send for Hermione the minute we get back and it’ll be fixed faster than you can say paracetamol.” Harry smiled, “They did give you paracetamol, right? You’re not in too much pain?” He added, trying desperately to push down the bubble of panic that threatened to rise again. He couldn’t bear to think about Draco in pain.

Draco laughed, nodding, “You’d think after the amount of times this has happened, you’d have brushed up on your healing spells by now.”

Harry immediately lost his smile, and on seeing this, so did Draco.

“Who was it this time?” Harry asked darkly, not able to avoid the issue with pleasant chit-chat any longer. “If it was Knowles again, I swear Draco, I’ll kill him.”

Draco ruefully shook his head, “What good would that do? And it wasn’t Kowles anyway, I haven’t seen him since you and Weaselby did Circe knows what to him.”

“He had it coming.” Harry said simply, “You can’t keep letting them get away with it Draco! It’s been five years since the Final Battle, for Merlin’s sake! It’s not up to you to be the punching bag of those who lost people.” Harry said exasperatedly, knowing full well that Knowles had lost nothing but himself in the years after the War, and had found that firewhisky was a good companion for a broken soul.

“Harry, how many times?” Draco rolled his eyes, “You can’t blame people for being angry. You and Luna still see mind-healers, and Ronald and Herms only stopped seeing theirs last July. The pain is still fresh for so many people Harry, and that pain is in part due to me.”

Harry had heard the speech a hundred times, but it still made no sense. Why on earth should Draco have to pay for his past mistakes, when he was just as young and vulnerable as the rest of them had been? But Harry would never in a million years want to make Draco upset, and if that meant not filing reports whenever twisted vigilantes took their turn on the only Death-Eater they could find, so be it. 

“Who was it though Draco?” Harry asked, determined to pay them back for the damage they caused to Harry’s heart by hurting Draco. Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry tried again, “Please, babe? You know I can’t stand to see them just get away with it.” He pleaded, doing his best impression of the puppy he’d bought Teddy last christmas. 

“Even if I did agree with your endearing need to avenge my honour, I couldn’t tell you. They must’ve obliviated me before anyone called an ambulance, try as I might, I can’t remember their face.” 

At that, Harry groaned in annoyance.

“Oh don’t be stupid Harry, it’s not as if i’m close to death, it was just a few scratches.” He smiled weakly, and Harry knew exactly what he was thinking.

“But what about when they go too far Draco? What will happen the next time i’m at work and you’re alone in muggle London? What happens when they go too far and end up, end up- ?” Harry seethes between gritted teeth, it’s too painful to imagine.

“That won’t happen Harry.” Draco insists.

“How do you-”

Their conversation was cut short when a different nurse from the woman earlier walked to the foot of Draco’s bed. 

“You’re free to go Mr. Potter,” The man smiled, “I do hope this time will be the last I see of you.”

The man made some notes to the card at the end of Draco’s bed, then smiled once more and walked away again.

Draco turned towards Harry with a tight smile, “I know that that won’t happen, because I can’t think of one person in wizarding Britain mad enough to kill The Harry Potter’s husband,” His smile turned genuine, “Even if he is Death Eater scum.”

Harry smiled, but reminded himself to bring the conversation back up later, and stood up, helping Draco out of bed. 

“Was Death Eater scum,” he corrected, as the pair made their way back down the hospital’s corridors, “Now you’re just a stubborn git- Ouch!” He squealed when Draco pinched his side.

“I am not a git. There’s only one Potter I know that fits that description, and he’s far more stubborn than me.”


End file.
